


Dime Piece

by rispacooper



Series: That Bones/Criminal Minds Cracky Crossover Love Story [8]
Category: Bones (TV), Criminal Minds
Genre: Comment Fic, Crack Pairing, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rispacooper/pseuds/rispacooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set some time in the future of this whole mess... so don't read if you want to see things toward the end right now. </p>
<p>A commentfic with no purpose other than cuteness. And set shortly before <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/351044">Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Rossi</a> by coffeebuddha. </p>
<p>The problem with someone using you and not telling you they're using you is that you are never one hundred percent sure afterwards that other people aren't using you too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dime Piece

It wasn’t _what_ Wendell was asking him, it _was_ how he was asking; head down at a subdued, submissive angle, his gaze coming up every few words to linger imploringly on Aaron’s face. His voice was warm but hesitant, husky, as if Wendell were close to being overcome with emotion—or seconds away from getting on his knees to make Aaron see stars, as if both were possible options. 

One bare, lightly tanned and freckled shoulder was rolled forward—offered, if Aaron had felt like being poetic he would have said Wendell offered it to him. And though Aaron wasn’t the type to recite sonnets on demand like Reid, his eyes traveled over that skin and then across the tight expanse of Wendell’s white wifebeater, noting as he always did how it clung to Wendell’s body. 

Wendell hadn’t tucked the shirt into the worn, faded jeans hanging loose at his slim hips, the same way he hadn’t put on shoes or socks or done more than run his fingers through his hair to style it. 

He looked innocent and corruptible, wholesome and obscene, and for one moment Aaron thought that only a professional could have done it better. 

“You want to know if your mother can stay with us while she’s in town?” he repeated, ignoring his dry mouth and burning skin and the slow, steady throb low in his stomach that had started the second he had laid eyes on Wendell looking like this. 

This Wendell, this manipulative, cunning being attempting to look and act the part of Aaron’s slam piece. 

The attempt at mild manipulation wasn’t surprising. What it implied was. 

Aaron didn’t care where he’d heard the term, the definition of _piece_ , a case, a prison interview, it didn’t matter. Wendell wasn’t someone to be used and discarded and never brought home to the family, even if Aaron’s body liked the idea of using him. His body had always responded to Wendell. Even this look, but this was fantasy. Reality was that Wendell _was_ home. He was family. Not this, or not just this, not seriously. Not outside of a silly game that Wendell might play to tease him. 

When Aaron didn’t add anything else to his question, Wendell bit his lip. Aaron couldn’t think clearly to judge, but he wanted to assume the uncertainty was real. The bloom of darker pink in Wendell’s full bottom lip at the hard press of Wendell’s teeth made him want to believe. 

He frowned, both for himself and for Wendell, though mostly for Wendell. 

Heat bubbled up in Aaron’s mind and in his chest, anger he was startled to feel. But he left his scowl in place and hardened his voice. 

“Why wouldn’t your mother be welcome in _our_ home?” He stressed the word just enough, gave it the slight weight that he shouldn’t have had to give it. 

This was their home. Wendell had lived with him and Jack for several months now. It was Wendell’s home too, this act wasn’t necessary. Wendell should never have thought that it was. 

It hurt, that realization. The idea that Wendell was still uncertain of him hurt more than the secondary realization that Wendell had thought Aaron might fall for this, and that others must have in the past and never seen past it. 

He’d known Wendell had used his looks to his advantage—he would have been stupid not to and Wendell anything but stupid. Trading on appearances consciously or unconsciously was part of human behavior. Wendell was smart enough to know that and to know exactly what he looked like to others. The goodness in him had a sensuality and appeal of its own, but this, the skinny white t-shirt, the bare feet and rumpled hair, this was a look conceived and carried out for Aaron and for Aaron alone. It was shockingly embarrassing to see how exactly Wendell had read him, how he had known what about him had attracted Aaron in the first place. 

Others might have looked at him and wanted him, and Aaron had, he had even when he hadn’t wanted to, but Aaron had also been drawn to Wendell’s careful boldness and the sly confidence that had allowed Wendell to attempt to seduce him back in the beginning. 

Aaron had wanted to let himself be seduced. He wanted it now. He wanted to bury himself in Wendell and slide his hands into his hair to pull his head back and listen to Wendell’s voice get truly husky and break on his name. 

He also wanted to wake up and see that freckled shoulder sticking out from under the blankets next to him. 

Aaron didn’t allow any of that to creep into his expression. Like the thoughts of what he would say to Wendell later in their bedroom to convince him he was loved and that he was here in this house to stay, Aaron took his anger and embarrassment and hurt used them to keep his stare unrelenting, to make Wendell see what he was to him. 

He did not break eye contact because Aaron could manipulate too, he could manipulate a damn sight better than people who didn’t hunt down con artists and psychopaths, and he wasn’t above using every hard-earned bit of knowledge he’d acquired over the years. 

Wendell was caught. His eyelashes swept down over his flushed cheeks, as if Aaron had embarrassed Wendell in turn, before those pale blond lashes swept back up. 

He lifted his chin, but perhaps it was only a defiant reflex because then Wendell wet his mouth in a clumsy, genuine gesture of confusion and looked up. The look was direct and honest and still just a little cunning, because Wendell was smart and Aaron liked him that way. 

“You aren’t mad about…?” Wendell waved at himself, at his body, admitting everything in a short motion, fine with being caught but still so damn uncertain of Aaron that Aaron narrowed his eyes. “Really? She’s really welcome?” The insecurity in Wendell’s voice was faint, but Aaron felt his hot burst of temper shift, then fade into something distant though no less dangerous. 

He would find out who had made Wendell think he was disposable, who had mattered to him and then had treated him like that, and he would make them understand what they had done. 

But for now Aaron could feel his scowl easing away, disappearing into, if not nothingness, then to something small and familiar that Wendell didn’t seem to mind. If anything, Wendell looked at the unhappy lines etched into Aaron’s face as some kind of constant. Proof, though he had never said of what. He stared at Aaron for a long moment and Aaron let himself be examined without flinching until Wendell finally exhaled. 

“I haven’t seen her in a while and, honestly, she’s just a little weirded out by this even though she’s been pretending she isn’t. So I thought if she just saw this. You and Jack and me. She’d see what I… She’d see.” 

“You want to show us off?” Aaron understood even if his voice rose slightly and made it a question. His shoulders dropped as most of the tension left him, though he wasn’t sure that Wendell noticed. 

This wasn’t about permission as much as it was smoothing things over. It was Wendell making sure he hadn’t expected too much and not realizing that Aaron felt the same. He would have shown off Wendell to anyone if he hadn’t already introduced Wendell to everyone he cared about. 

“It isn’t that I didn’t think she was welcome or that you wouldn’t say yes. I just thought… It’s kind of a lot to ask,” Wendell explained himself at last, seemingly aware this time that his words would hurt but obviously surprised when Aaron moved forward to grab him and hold him. Wendell’s breath was warm. Aaron was warm too as he pressed a kiss to Wendell’s bruised mouth. 

“No it isn’t,” Aaron whispered against the dark pink of Wendell’s parted, startled lips, and then kissed him again until Wendell kissed him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Wendell you are *totally* Aaron’s dime piece. An alpha only brings home the best.


End file.
